Hands Where I Can See Them
by Soulbell
Summary: Officer Jones takes a bit of a shine to Anya Braginski, taking her away from her "life of crime". But can he really fix her when she's so far gone? Contains Police!America/FemProstitute!Russia.
1. Chapter 1

**One**

The street was lit by a couple lamps, and the sound of traffic was echoing through the night. They were standing near an alleyway, stopping any passing drivers. They all wore similar clothing; usually a short skirt, a cropped top and some sort of fishnets. They smiled and laughed with their "customers", some of them negotiating a sale while others waited for another car.

Prostitution was pretty common in this area of town, and as a policeman, Alfred F. Jones didn't like it. He'd arrested many girls here before, but there was one in particular. One he was watching at the moment from his car. The windows were tinted, which gave away he was part of the police force, but no one seemed to pay any mind to him. He wasn't arresting anyone right now, so it was as if he wasn't even there.

Anya Braginski was leaned against the alley wall, smirking. She was adorned in "casual" dress, wearing a short, pleated pink skirt and a tight, cropped white halter. She wore fishnet stockings, as well as her nicest black stilettos. Her make-up consisted of dark, sparkly blue eye shadow and a coral-colored lipstick for complimentary colors. She was laughing casually with the girl next to her before turning to glance at the police car.

Alfred knew she couldn't see him, but he turned away anyway. He'd come here all the time, just watching her, but never arresting her. He never understood why. After a few moments, he turned back, but Anya was gone. He groaned, leaning back against the leather seats of the car, closing his eyes. A tap came from the window and he jumped, Anya smiling through the glass. She couldn't see him, but she knew he was watching her.

"Open up, darling~" she cooed, batting her eyelashes. Alfred sat for a bit, trying to act as if he wasn't there. He didn't want to deal with her up front, and so sat quietly, praying she'd leave. Anya smirked and kissed the glass, leaving a coral lip-print on the window, before asking again. Reluctantly, Alfred cracked the window slightly, allowing her to see at _least_ his eyes, which seemed to be a part of an unhappy expression.

"Boss says you buy, arrest, or get out, hun~"

Before he had a chance to pick which choice he wanted, Anya pulled open the door to the driver's seat to see him fully. He was adorned in the original police uniform, weapons and all, but he was different in the way he wore a bomber jacket as well. It was a unique touch. Anya leaned over, using the car for support, chuckling slightly as he looked away from the cleavage that was showing from her position.

"Y'know, you have to quit doing this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He turned back to glare at her. He'd never admit it to himself, much less Anya, that she was right. Why did he continue to do this? He knew it always ended up the same way; a long drive home and maybe an arrest, if he remembered to do so.

"We both know you sit here and watch me, darling," she giggled softly, sitting herself down sideways on his lap and leaving the door open. "So why not arrest me already~?"

"You'd enjoy it too much, _darling_." He hissed the word, unhappy with the compromising position he was allowing himself to fall into.

She frowned, sticking her bottom lip out in a pouty expression. She had work to do and customers to attend to, and she clearly wasn't getting anywhere by playing nice with the man. She wrapped an arm around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. Alfred stayed strong, however, avoiding her gaze and sitting dead still.

"Come on, Alfred…" she whispered, picking her head up and moving her lips close to his, "cuff me… you know you want to~"

He twitched at that, glancing at her from the corner of his eye and scowling. He gulped, beginning to get nervous. Damn… How did this always happen to him with her? This was exactly why he didn't want to talk to her up front. Anya leaned in for the kiss, feeling triumphant as she locked her lips with his.

The kiss was sensual, lasting a few long moments before Alfred ripped himself away, his cheeks rosy. Anya frowned, moving in to try again, but he was faster. He grabbed her arm, pushing her out of the car and against the hood of the vehicle. She squeaked, before chuckling as he bent her over, cuffing her hands behind her back.

"You're no fun, darling~!" she laughed, not even attempting to fight back. Alfred simply rolled his eyes as he finished locking the cuffs.

"Yeah, I'll bet you're _used_ to that position."

"Oh don't lie; you loved it~"

Alfred didn't reply. He'd never admit it, but he had enjoyed it somewhat, and to him this was a bad sign. He couldn't let her in his head. He grabbed Anya and placed her in the back seat before getting in the driver's seat himself. He put the car in drive, slamming on the gas. Anya yelped, the sudden movement forcing her back in her seat. The drive was quiet for a while, awkwardly silent. Anya had a miffed look upon her face, clearly bored.

"…So you're really arresting me, huh?"

"You need to be put away."

He kept his eyes on the road, mumbling some things under his breath. Anya looked out the window, sneaking a sideways glance at him. Her wrists were q bit sore from the cuffs now, but she was working on that. She leaned forward, smirking, licking his cheek. The car made a sudden swerve as Alfred squeaked, jumping. He pulled the car over as Anya wriggled her way into the passenger's seat.

_"Are you trying to get us killed?"_ His face was red, and his heart was still racing. He wiped the excess saliva off his cheek with the sleeve of his jacket.

"I'm bored~!"

"That's no reason to distract me while I'm driving!"

She plopped back into his lap, legs apart. "You should've cuffed me to the door or something…" she chuckled, holding the cuffs up on her finger, "You should know I've dealt with my share of these~"

He gulped; why was he not surprised she could pick handcuffs? He attempted to push her off of him, getting more and more frustrated. Anya kissed him again, this time more urgently, clasping his face to hers. Alfred's struggles weakened as he attempted to pull her away, noticing her hands slowly sliding down his sides. She bit his lip lightly, moving one hand up to run her fingers through his hair.

They stayed like this for a bit, their lips molding to each others, when finally Anya pulled away softly, chuckling softly in his ear.

"That's quite a _gun_ you have there, officer~"

His face was as red as red could go, and he finally used all his strength to push her off of him, turning away. Anya sat back in the passenger's seat contently, crossing her legs, laughing.

"Admit it! You find me attractive, don't you officer~?"

He ignored her, trying to calm himself down. What was he _doing?_ Anya noticed his silence and so kept to herself, putting her hands down at her sides.

_"Hands where I can see them, woman."_

He'd started the car again, and was driving a bit faster than he was supposed to. Anya rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, looking out the window for the jail. She was waiting for him to pull into the parking lot, but she quickly grew puzzled as they passed right by it. She looked at Al, a sarcastic smile on her face.

"Darling, the jail is _that way_."

"I know."

"…Then where are you taking me?"

"My apartment."

She stared, shocked. Alfred kept his eyes on the road, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. Anya smiled, laughing and leaning back in her seat, closing her eyes, making herself comfortable. It was going to be a long ride.

"You'd better believe I'm charging you for this~"


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

One had to admit, Alfred's apartment was… swanky. It had a very homey feel to it, with one master bedroom with an adjacent bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. In the living room was a flatscreen across from a couch. Anya looked around, and noticed right away how obvious it was that Alfred lived alone. She sighed, plopping leisurely down onto the couch.

"You really didn't think this through, did you~?" she snickered, laying back and kicking her feet up onto the arm of the couch, allowing her skirt to fall back and show her black lace underwear. Alfred pushed her feet back down, not wanting to see any of… well, _that_.

"What are you talking about?"

"I have no clothes other than these, my make-up's at home, and _no way_ am I sleeping on the couch, darling~"

"I'll lend you something to wear, I'll take you shopping, and you'll have to deal with it, because that's where you're sleeping." Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes and hanging up his jacket. He moved to the kitchen, clearly tired, pouring himself a glass of water. Anya had sat up, her eyes sparkling and a huge grin crossing her face.

"You're taking me shopping?"

Wincing, he turned away from her.

"…If you're going to stay a while, then yes. I'm taking you shopping."

She quickly leaped over the back of the couch, pulling him into a tight hug and smothering him in tiny kisses from the neck up. Alfred yelped, turning pink as he felt her chest push up against his, pushing away. When she'd finally let go, his neck and face were covered in tiny coral-colored lip-prints, and he'd turned bright red. She laughed, placing one last kiss on his cheek.

"Red's a good color for you, hun~"

He rolled his eyes, the color slowly draining from his cheeks as he motioned her to follow him into the bedroom. He opened his dresser, pulling out a blue sweatshirt and tossing it over to her.

"That should be big enough to cover…" he trailed off, looking her up and down, "…Everything that needs to be covered."

She snorted, slipping off her boots and fishnets. "I gotta tell you, _officer_… this place?" she pulled off her skirt, showing the lacy black underwear Alfred had caught a glimpse of earlier, "…It's nice~"

"Th-this isn't one of your shows, Anya!" Alfred averted his eyes, turning away as she pulled off her halter.

"Relax, hun, I'm not showing off any _valuables_~"

As she changed, he snuck a glance at her. Her bra matched the underwear, black with the same lacy trim. Alfred had to admit, it looked… nice…

_No._

He refused to get distracted, tearing his eyes away from her, crossing his arms. She slipped the shirt over top, and it _did_ cover everything, minus a shoulder. He wasn't surprised it was a little big, and began setting up some blankets nicely on the couch. Anya rolled up the sleeves of the shirt a bit, since they were quite a ways longer than her arms were, and watched him work.

"There." He moved to his room, turning off the lamp on his nightstand and crawling onto his bed. "The couch is set up for you. The window should allow you enough light to see. If not, there's a lamp next to the television you can turn on. There's water from the tap, and you can forage for food in the fridge. I'll be in here if you need anything."

He kicked back, laying above the covers, hands behind his head. Anya looked from the couch to the bed and back again, her gaze contemptful. Without warning, she sidled up next to him on top of the sheets, pressing close to him and closing her eyes, smirking.

"I like this spot better, darling~"

Alfred twitched, feeling her snuggling up into him. He sat up, moving away, gulping.

"That's not how this is going to work, Anya."

"Why not~? If it makes you feel better, I won't charge you anything~"

"WE ARE NOT HAVING SEX. PERIOD."

His face was red again, and Anya laughed, making herself comfortable on the sheets without him.

"Well what if I don't do anything? Try it your way, officer~?" she smiled softly as she saw the flicker in his eyes. He was considering it. "Would that make any difference, darling~?"

Alfred knew she was as stubborn as he was, but if he wanted this to work, he had to be willing to compromise. He slid back a little closer, but got under the sheets, turning over and keeping to himself.

"Fine. But I swear-"

"Don't worry~" she held her hand straight up, "Scouts' honor~"

She leaned into him however, drifting off to sleep. Alfred was still quite uncomfortable with the situation he'd put himself in, but he untensed a bit, falling asleep soon after her. The moonlight showed through the window brightly, illuminating the two sleeping forms.

They had a long way to go before they would figure out what each was doing for the other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

The morning that one cop and one prostitute shared was a lot tamer than the night they were destined to have later on. It started when Alfred woke up, shirtless, in his bed. He sat bolt upright, looking for Anya. He couldn't see her anywhere, but heard his shower running.

"Anya!" he shouted, "I thought we had a deal; where the hell is my shirt?" He pulled the covers off, noticing his pants were still on. _Now_ he was confused.

"Your shirt, darling," Anya laughed over the running water, "is somewhere on the floor! You took it off last night because you got 'overheated'~"

Sure enough, a few minutes of searching later, he found it on the floor near the bed. As he began looking through his dresser and closet, he heard the water stop. Anya was in the bathroom, air-drying her long blonde hair. She'd made sure to change in the bathroom, since she knew sissy-boy would have a fit if she didn't. She slipped on her bra and underwear—the same ones from the day before, black lace—and grabbed a shirt she'd pulled out of Alfred's closet. It was a nice long-sleeved white dress-shirt. She pulled it on, leaving the top three buttons open, and pulled up her pink skirt. The shirt was so long it practically covered the whole skirt, but whatever. It worked. Somewhat.

She opened the door, stepping barefoot onto the carpet, past Alfred and over to her boots, which she began unzipping to put on. Alfred saw the shirt she was wearing, and how it hung off her shoulder, and how her bra showed _right_ through it, and turned slightly pink.

"You aren't honestly going to wear that, are you?"

Anya finished putting her boots on, standing up straight. She looked a bit like a schoolgirl gone horribly wrong, with an innocent look on her face to match. She blinked, tilting her head slightly.

"Yes. What's wrong with it~?"

Alfred looked her up and down. There wasn't _necessarily_ anything wrong with how she looked, it just… It wasn't something other people needed to see. Especially in public. He pulled out a shirt similar to the one Anya was wearing; but it was black. Anya glanced at it, before bursting into laughter.

"The only way I'm wearing that one is if you put it on me yourself~!"

She popped the collar up as a joke, snickering. Alfred twitched. No way was he letting her go out like that. Hesitantly, he moved over to her, his face turning red. Anya raised an eyebrow, smirking and putting her hands on her hips.

"Do it. Go on~!"

Alfred glared, shakily unbuttoning the shirt. Finally, he pulled it undone, completely showing off her bra and chest. Anya waited a bit impatiently as he pulled off the shirt and slipped on the black one, buttoning it up quickly and turning away, his face red. She smiled, patting him heartily on the back and laughing.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it~?"

The day continued to move like this. Alfred took her shopping, as promised, and made sure she didn't by anything _unnecessary_. Anya set up her end of the apartment near the couch, since the officer wouldn't have it any other way. Alfred got a call from work saying he had the night off, and that's where they currently stand; an excited Anya Braginski harassing a stressed Alfred F. Jones.

"Come on~! You have the night off! Let's do something _fun_!" she whined, clinging to his arm slightly, pouting.

"Anya, your version of fun is probably not _my_ version of fun. I mean really." He pushed her away, dusting himself off and moving to the couch, grabbing the TV remote. Anya glared, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck from behind, resting her chin on top of his head.

"Don't be like that, darling~! I know this great place I know you'd like~" She chuckled, trying to convince him. Anya's only thought was that this guy had a stick up his ass, and he needed to let loose. She lightly massaged his shoulders, kissing the top of his head. "Pretty please, darling~?"

Alfred relaxed a bit, beginning to consider it. He put the remote down, pulling away from her. He held up his index finger. "One time. This is the _one time_ I will let you take me someplace." he mumbled sternly, dead serious. Anya smiled secretively, pulling him up off the couch and out of the apartment.

"It's just around the corner from here, darling~"

She moved as fast as a woman in stilettos could move, pulling him along with her. Music emanated loudly from a building a few blocks down, and Alfred had a deep, sickening feeling that that was where he was being taken. This feeling was correct, but Anya took him around back, slipping through a door Alfred probably wouldn't have noticed on his own. It blended in with the wall, handle and all. As soon as she shut the door though, the sound was deafening. As they moved farther into the club, however, he slowly got used to it.

People were dancing all throughout the club. There was an empty cage in the center, and poles scattered all around the place. Alfred noticed there was money floating around, the girls on the poles catching what they could and shoving it all down their bra or underwear. As Anya sat him down at the bar, his facial expression became somewhat panicked and angry at the same time.

"Y-you! You brought me to a strip club!" He shouted over the music as Anya took a seat next to him.

"It's nice, no? This place is so much fun!" she laughed in response, quickly asking the bartender which drink would get her drunk the fastest. He brought out a bottle of vodka and a set of a dozen shot glasses.

"Why did I think you'd take me someplace decent…" he grumbled as Anya poured the shots, taking one herself.

"You are no fun, you know that? You're such a hard-ass!"

Alfred stared. He was fun… maybe it was just Anya that made him this way. The fact hat she was just so… He called it "off limits". Well, he would show her.

"I can be just as fun as anyone else in this room." He snapped, pulling the whole tray of shots away from her, downing three of them in under a minute. "Don't test me, _darling_."

Anya stared, her jaw dropping as he gulped down a few more shots, leaving only two on the tray. He slumped over on the bar, laughing. She smiled slightly, unsure of how he was feeling. Was it a mistake to bring him here?

_Nah… he needs this~_

She jumped as Alfred laughed louder, pulling her close. She saw the rest of the shot classes emptied, as well, and made the connection. She could tell he wasn't _completely_ drunk; he didn't look the type to get drunk that easily. Anya smiled, leaning into him and slowly unbuttoning a few buttons of her shirt.

"Enjoying yourself, hun~?"

He asked for another round of shots, loosening up as he took more drinks. He could hold his liquor, he thought, but something was off about these drinks. He'd never had them before. He stood up, pulling Anya up with him. His words were a bit slurred as he mumbled loud enough for her to hear over the music

"This one's just for you, _darling_!"

He laughed, hopping up onto one of the elevated stages with a pole. The girl who was there originally moved aside, eyeing him as he took his shirt off, throwing it into the crowd. The DJ put on another tune as Alfred began dancing on the pole. Anya's eyes widened and she bust up laughing as the crowd went wild. He looked so professional, it was kind of sad. People were throwing money by the bundle at Alfred now, chanting for him to take his pants off. Anya sat back down at the bar, watching contently as the events unfolded before her eyes.

Her smile faded, however, as the crowd began grabbing for him, moving him towards the cage. Those who weren't helping him in were either helping the other _guy_ into the cage, or cheering wildly. Money was flying everywhere as Alfred swiped a drink from someone in the audience, swigging the bottle down before moving into the cage, a confident smirk on his face. The other guy was put into the cage, and Anya noticed he was just as smashed as Alfred. The two ran at each other as the DJ turned up the music. They were all over each other, like animals, and Anya thought that was enough. Alfred needed _some_ dignity by the end of this night. She got up, making her way to the cage, pulling it open and grabbing hold of him. His lips were locked with the other man's, and she yanked him away with all the strength she could muster.

They fell to the floor, money raining down on them, Alfred laughing like nothing had happened. Anya twitched, pulling herself to her feet, and Alfred along with her. She moved him through the club, back to the back entrance and outside. Alfred turned to look at her, a huge grin on his face.

"Aw man, that was awesome! I haven't been this excited in a long time!" He laughed again, nearly bouncing with energy. Was he really as drunk as she'd thought? Anya tugged on his arm; his shirt still inside.

"Let's go darling, that's enough fun for one night." she sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. She was beginning to think she liked "tight-ass" Alfred better. She dragged him along, urging him to keep quiet. He wouldn't want to get in trouble with the police—with his own work associates—would he?

Finally, she managed to usher him back into the apartment. Never again was she going to get him this smashed. As soon as she locked the door and turned around, however, she felt Alfred's lips smash against hers. She squeaked, unprepared for this gesture, and pulled away. Alfred blinked, surprised by her lack of interest. He was still shirtless, and she noticed for the first time that his pants were undone too. Good lord. She pressed a finger to his lips, keeping him at bay.

"Sorry darling," she murmured, chuckling softly, "I don't do drunks~"

She kissed him on the cheek, the chuckling turning to laughter at his dumbstruck expression. She pulled him into the bedroom, laying him down on the bed.

"What if I paid you? I made plenty of money tonight, what if I—" He was cut off as she covered his mouth with her whole hand this time.

"I don't do drunks, hun. Ever~"

Reluctantly, he got comfortable in the bed. Anya made sure he was on his side, so that if he vomited during the night he wouldn't… well, _choke_. She changed into her frilly nightgown she'd bought earlier and snuggled under the covers on the couch.

Yep, Anya Braginski didn't do drunks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Alfred awoke the next morning feeling like his head was going to split in two. Slowly, he turned over in his bed, noticing he was alone. Sitting up, he noticed his shirt was gone again—this time nowhere in sight—and also that his pants were undone. What had he _done_ last night? He remembered drinking a few shots at the club… and everything else was a blur. He got out of bed a bit sluggishly, stumbling, moving to the kitchen. Something smelled good. The afternoon light showed through the window as the smell of pancakes floated through the apartment. Alfred rubbed his eyes, putting on his glasses and gaping slightly at the sight in his kitchen.

Anya had a pair of earphones in and was tapping her foot while flipping pancakes on the griddle. She was in a little white tie-around blouse that showed her stomach, and a long pair of flared jeans that covered a pair of white cowboy boots. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore faded pink lipstick. She didn't notice Al for a while, putting the pancakes on a plate before turning around and seeing him. She jumped, almost dropping the plate, before chuckling and pulling the earphones out of her ears.

"Morning, darling~" she snickered, "Or, rather, afternoon~" she set the plate down on the small dining room table. Alfred just continued to stare, dumbstruck. What the hell was happening here? He watched as she set a glass of water and two pills next to the plate of pancakes, and he finally began moving towards the food, feeling extremely hungry.

"What do you mean, afternoon? What happened yesterday?"

"The pills are for your headache; I'm sure you have quite the hangover after last night." she ignored his question, skipping over to the couch and grabbing her purse, moving towards the door. Alfred grabbed her arm, but felt dizzy from the sudden movement.

"Anya, please. What happened yesterday?" He was as serious as a man with a hangover could get, but Anya pulled out of his grip, opening the door to the apartment to leave. She stopped, however, when she almost ran face-first into someone at the door. He had short blonde hair and thick eyebrows, and he certainly looked unhappy. He glanced at Anya up and down before looking at Alfred, behind her.

"I heard the word 'hangover', Alfred. Care to tell me what's really going on?"

Alfred blinked, even more confused. He turned to Anya, who shrunk under his gaze.

"I… I kinda called your office at work and said you were sick… don't be mad!"

"You WHAT?" But before he could yell at her, she slipped past the thick-browed man and out of the building. Alfred sighed, gesturing for the man to come in as he sat down and began eating. "Sorry Arthur, it's been a rough couple days."

"Yeah I'll bet. Too much sex with the _whore_, Alfred?"

Alfred stopped mid-bite. How did Arthur know? Oh wait, she didn't exactly hide it. He gulped down the food, suddenly feeling nervous. Arthur wanted top spot on the police force, and if he ratted him out, he'd get it for sure. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"What are you doing with this girl, Alfred? She's going to get you in trouble, you know." Arthur smirked, chuckling darkly. Alfred frowned, putting his food down a bit reluctantly.

"That's none of your business, Arthur."

"It's my business when you're _skipping work_."

"I'm just trying to fix her up, man, lighten up!"

At these words, he saw a note next to the plate of food. It was scrawled on in pretty handwriting and had a pink lip-print on it.

_Darling, I'm heading off to work. Thank you for the time we shared. Hope to see you around sometime soon._

_ With much love,_

_ Anya_

Alfred stared, reading it over and over again, not processing it. She… left? For good? What the FUCK? He got out of the chair, taking the two pills she'd left him and moving towards the door. Arthur stopped him, however, grabbing his arm.

"Alfred, this chick is garbage. She isn't good for you. If you go back and see her…" his gaze hardened, like a predator would lock onto its prey, "…I'll personally see that both of you are arrested. Is that clear?"

He could tell Arthur was serious, and there were a few moments of silence before Alfred pulled out of his grip, sighing and nodding. Fine. Anya didn't want to be there? That was her problem. He'd tried his hand. He pulled on his bomber jacket, fussing with his hair a bit before following Arthur out the door.

A week had passed since Anya had seen Alfred on her street. To be honest, she kind of missed having him around to tease. She wanted to see him, but her boss probably wouldn't allow it, even though he favored her a bit. She moved from the main street and down the alleyway, knocking on a door that blended with the brick. She was let in almost immediately, and she entered a long corridor. She moved towards the end of the hall, stopping at a door on her right. She knocked, and someone called through the door, their voice deep.

"Name?"

"Anya Braginski."

"Business?"

"Visiting a friend."

She heard conversation muffled through the thick door, and a different voice spoke out. It was filled with confidence, and a bit more arrogant than the last.

"Braginski~! What is this about visiting a friend~?"

"Da. There is someone in town I'd like to visit, sir."

There was silence for a bit, before laughter from behind the door.

"You know that leaving work will cost you some pay, yes~?"

"…Yes, of course."

"…Then you'd better hurry it up. Twenty-five cents off for every minute you're gone, starting… _now~_"

Things quieted behind the door, and Anya took that as her cue to leave. She rushed up the steps of the building to her room, slipping off the clothes she had on and opening her closet. In the very back was a set of clothes she'd bought with Alfred the other day; a nice lilac, button-down dress shirt with flared sleeves and a pair of light khaki shorts. She added a tan belt and put on a pair of combat boots for the set. She threw her hair up in a messy bun and wiped off all her make-up, lightly coating her lips with gloss rather than lipstick before heading out the door.

Slowly and a bit hesitantly, Anya walked into the police station, heading for the front desk. The receptionist was a cute little thing, and she looked up at Anya expectantly.

"How can I help you?"

"Er… I'm here to see a Mr. _Jones_, if I could?"

The woman blinked, silent for a moment, before smiling and pointing at a door down the hall. "That's his office. I can't promise he'll he in today, but you can check to see if he's there. If not, leave your name and number with me and I'll have him give you a call."

Anya smiled faintly in thanks, shuffling past a few people and towards the room. She felt so out of place, even though she blended in so well. What was the saying? "Sweating like a sinner in church"? Yeah, that was the saying she was looking for. She knocked on the door before entering, but found it empty. She looked around the office for a bit, noticing the picture on his desk. It was of him and what looked like the man who was at his apartment the last time she'd seen him.

"…Anya?"

She jumped, startled. Alfred was in the doorway, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked her up and down.

"You… you look nice…" he mumbled. "…But what are you doing here?"

Anya smiled as Alfred shut the door behind him, leaning against it. She bounced over to him, stretching on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, giggling.

"I just came to visit you darling… you never stop by anymore~!"

Alfred pushed her away, keeping himself composed. "That's because I can't see you anymore. You left, and that was for the better. If Arthur catches us, I'll be _fired_, Anya." he moved over behind his desk, shuffling some papers around in order.

"So… you don't want to see me?"

"…No Anya, I don't."

The silence was awkwardly painful. Anya's smile had faded slightly and her eyebrows knit together in confusion and hurt. She chuckled sarcastically.

"So I… I, um… take the time to… to look nice… or, _your_ standardization of nice, anyway… and talk my boss into letting me come across town to… see you… I let him _DOCK_ MY _PAY!"_ she raised her voice for a moment, before returning to bitter sarcasm, "…And you don't wanna see me… Heh… Thanks. Thanks a fucking lot."

She stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her. She moved past some other policemen, including Arthur, before heading out the door and up the street. Alfred quickly ran out after her, frustrated with the whole situation.

"Anya!" he shouted as he ran up the street after her. "Anya, stop!"

Anya continued to move, however, her combat boots proving very useful. Alfred had chased her all the way back up to her place of "work", and she was banging on the seemingly invisible door. Alfred was making his way down the alleyway as the door opened, Anya slipping inside. Al stuck his foot in, stopping it from closing and following her. At the end of the hall, Anya was yelling desperately on the boss's door.

"Anya, hold on a seco—"

He cut off as the door opened, a man with bright white hair stepping out in front of Anya. He pulled off his sunglasses, showing intense, albino-red eyes. His smirk was confident, cocky even, as he crossed his arms, looking from Anya to Alfred and back again.

"I counted the minutes, precious. You're down thirty-eight bucks. And as for you…" he snickered, locking his gaze on Alfred. _"Let's talk~"_


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

"Gilbert!" Anya squeaked, grabbing him around the waist from behind. The man named Gilbert winced at the contact, looking down at Anya with what looked like _distaste_,and pulling her off of him. He dusted himself off, the cocky expression returning to his face.

"Go upstairs, Braginski. _Now_~"

Backing away slightly, smirking at Alfred, Anya pranced up the steps two at a time, disappearing from view. Alfred kept his line of vision on Gilbert, however, but flinched nervously as another man came out of the room he'd come from. He was a bit taller than Gilbert, with slicked back blonde hair and blue eyes, a stoic expression on his face; altogether a very serious man. Both wore suits and looked like pure businessmen from head to toe. Well, the taller one did, anyway. Gilbert _looked_ like a businessman, but from what Alfred saw, he didn't act the part.

"So I hear you've been the cause of Anya's distractedness lately, eh?" Gilbert snickered, leaning against the wall behind him. "You're that cop that was always around… what's his name?"

"Alfred Jones, bruder." The taller man sighed, crossing his arms. He had a thick German accent, Al noticed, and he didn't look the like the type you'd want to mess with.

"Aw, thanks, Luddy!" Gilbert patted his brother on the back, before extending his hand to Alfred, grinning. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, at your service. This is my brother, Ludwig."

Hesitantly, Alfred took Gilbert's hand, shaking it in acquaintance, before doing the same for Ludwig. Was he really befriending Anya's… er, _bosses?_ Gilbert leaned against the wall again, kicking back while his brother stayed in exactly the same position he'd been since entering the situation. It was silent for a while, all of them just looking at one another. They could hear the familiar traffic in the background, and Al gulped, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. He shouldn't be here unless he was _arresting_ these two. As if Gilbert knew what he was thinking, he laughed loudly.

"Keseses! You wanna arrest us, bud? You know if you do, your girlfriend goes to the slammer too."

"How did you—Oh never mind. That's not the point. I'm here to see Anya, not you."

"How rude! Ha! If you wanna see _anyone_, you'd better pay up. As far as I've heard, you've run up quite a bill." Gilbert snickered, smirking. "Besides, I'm not the type of person you want to get on the wrong side of, so I suggest you leave quietly, right now. You had your chance to see 'precious' about half an hour ago, and you didn't take—"

"I'll pay you. Let's just… keep this quiet."

Both the German men stared at him, not sure how to react. They'd had cops for business before, but never something like this. Gilbert laughed loudly, standing straight up and crossing his arms, a glint in his eye.

"The price is double, buddy. You can't just take her away for a few days without expecting the price to increase. That's not awesome. And I don't like 'not awesome'."

He glared at Gilbert, but Ludwig was the one who returned it. If looks could kill, Ludwig's glare could have probably done so at least six times over. Alfred knew a guy on the force, Berwald, who could glare like that. It wasn't something anyone enjoyed being on the opposite end of. He sighed, pulling out his wallet and handing over all the cash he had. He noticed it was quite full; where had all that money come from? He had a suspicion it had been from that night he'd spent at the club, but right now it was serving its purpose. He watched as Gilbert counted the money. He stepped aside, leaving the stairway unblocked.

"Her room is the last one to the left on the third floor. Pleasure doing business with you, heh!" he motioned for his brother to follow him, and both went back inside the room they'd originated from, closing and locking the door behind them. Alfred groaned, making his way up the steps and down the third floor hallway. He stood outside her door for a minute before knocking. Anya opened it up, and he saw she was in the midst of changing.

Or at least, that's what he hoped was going on.

She was in a white frilly bra with matching underwear. As soon as she saw it was him, however, she tried slamming the door, but he caught it before she could, trying to force his way in.

"God, I never thought boss would let you up here! What do you want?" she shouted, using her whole weight to keep the door from opening.

"I want to talk to you Anya, now open the damn door before I break it down!"

She pushed against it for a few more minutes before groaning, slowly opening it up. She put her hands on her hips, impatient. Alfred looked around a little at her apartment. It was a bit messy, with clothes on the floor and the glass cracked on the window, and he noticed the bed was perfectly made. He sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. Anya had calmed down a bit, feeling a bit uncomfortable now with the silence. Alfred spoke first.

"Look, Anya, I shouldn't have said what I said at the station. But associating with you could get me into trouble with my job, and you in trouble as well, and I don't want that."

"Oh? Then why are you here now? Because it certainly doesn't look like you're trying very hard to avoid me~" she chuckled sarcastically, averting his gaze.

He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, unsure of what to say. He was getting more and more frustrated with her by the minute, and he asked himself that familiar question.

_What am I _doing?

"Well, _officer_, what are you waiting for? Arrest me or get the hell out, darling, those are your choices~" she smiled, picking up some clothes off the floor and throwing them in her closet carelessly. Alfred bit his lip, sitting down on the bed and looking at the floor, his cheeks flushing pink.

"What about… what about a _third_ choice?" he mumbled.

Anya froze, turning to look at him. A smile crept across her lips as she sat on his lap, legs apart, arms around his neck for support. She chuckled softly, knowing he'd back out.

"And what choice would _that_ be, darling~?" she teased, smirking.

Without an answer and without warning, he kissed her. She flinched, startled yet again by his move rather than her own. But this time she didn't pull out, didn't pull away. She threaded her fingers into his hair, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing back hungrily. Slowly, he slid his hands down to her bare stomach, slipping them around to unsnap her bra. She pulled away before he could, however, snickering. She traced his lips lightly with her finger, murmuring softly.

_"Let me close the door first, darling~"_

She stood up slowly, sliding off of him and closing the door to her room, locking it before turning to face him. Alfred had slipped off his jacket by now, and exhaled shakily, his heart racing. Anya smiled, sidling back over to him and pressing her lips back to his.

The first streetlamp blinked on as the sun set over the city.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

When the sun filtered through the cracked window of Anya's room, it left a shattered pattern on the bed and floor. It shined directly in Alfred's face, causing him to flinch awake. He turned over, trying to catch those last few Z's before work…

Oh, wait, _work_.

He sat up, sighing heavily, before remembering exactly where he was. He looked over at the sleeping figure next to him. The only motion that Anya made was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, still asleep. It had been… a long night. Alfred chuckled, slipping out of bed, not wearing anything. He looked around, spotting his pants and shirt; but where the hell were his boxers? He heard a soft snicker from behind him.

_"Nice ass, darling~"_

He refused to turn around, simply looking over his shoulder. Anya sat up, holding the blanket close with one hand, covering her chest. In the other hand, however, were Alfred's boxers. She smirked, the snickering turning into laughter as she tossed them over to him. In automatic response, he reached out and caught them, turning around and revealing… well, pretty much everything. He quickly slipped on the boxers as Anya stood up, using the blanket as a kind of toga while she moved towards her closet in the search for clothing. She dropped the blanket, fitting into a matching set of undergarments, both a baby-pink color. She turned around, scanning the clothes she had lying all over the floor, picking up a one-sleeved red top and a black skirt. Before getting dressed, she flitted over to Alfred, grabbing him and pulling him into a kiss, smirking in triumph as he kissed back without a fight for once.

In between breaths, she mumbled, "Do you _have_ to go to work, darling~? "

Alfred had to tear himself away, his cheeks a dusty red hue in the shattered light that continued brightening the room. He buttoned up his shirt, turning away, wondering if he was going to get in trouble for running out of work like that. Anya sighed, taking that as a "yes" to her question, and slipped on the clothing she'd picked out. A knock at the door made them both jump. As Anya made her way for the handle, the door opened, Arthur standing in the doorway, gun loaded and aimed for either one.

"Hands where I can see them, Alfred." He grumbled, pointing the gun from him to Anya and back again.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" He raised his hands to show he had no weapon, trying to motion for Anya to do the same. Anya, however, crossed her arms, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. She'd only caught a glance of Arthur the first time she'd seen him at Alfred's apartment, but up close, he looked very familiar…

And then it dawned on her.

"боже мой! (oh my god!)… I know you~!" she exclaimed, trying not to laugh. Arthur pointed the gun at her, glaring.

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been here before! You're—"

He clicked the gun, his cheeks flaring red. "You'd better hush your mouth, lady!"

Anya shook her head, picking up her cell phone and texting someone. Alfred put his hands down, terribly confused. Anya… knew Arthur? In what way? He looked from Anya to Arthur and back, frowning.

"Arthur, _what_ is she talking about?"

"Don't listen to her, Alfred. She's lying."

The room was silent for a bit as Anya put her phone down, smirking at Arthur. He returned the look with a stone-cold glare, moving inside the room and grabbing America's arm, pulling him towards the door.

"You can't leave yet, Artie~" Anya snickered, moving over and grabbing Alfred's other arm. "There's still one person you haven't visited~"

Alfred looked from one to the other again, feeling very uncomfortable with being pulled in two separate directions. Arthur's patience was wearing very thin, and he pulled harder on the American's arm.

"Let go, you whore!"

"Not yet, darling~!"

Al frowned at Anya. "I thought I was the only one you called 'darling'!"

Anya blinked, her gaze distant, before smiling and letting go of Alfred. "Of course not! Why, do you want me to only call _you_ that~?" she chuckled, smirking now.

Before he could answer, Arthur pulled on his arm again. "Let's g—"

As the Englishman turned to leave, he bumped face-first into someone. They were wearing black high heels and a red miniskirt, but there was stubble on their legs. They wore a matching red tube-top, black glovelets, and had shoulder-length, wavy blonde hair.

"Ah, Arthur, we meet again, oui?"

The voice was masculine, of course, with a heavy French accent. Arthur and Alfred stared, dumbstruck. Anya looked like she was going to burst into laughter.

_"Francis. Perfect timing~"_


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"Would someone kindly explain what the hell is going on?"

Alfred exclaimed as he pulled away from Arthur, whose expression was one of pure embarrassment and annoyance combined. The Englishman's face was bright red, and he was inevitably swearing as he pushed away from Francis, who seemed to be trying to hug him.

At least, Officer Jones _hoped_ he was only trying to hug him.

"Ohonhon, Arthur here is one of my best customers. There's not much else to say, chèrie!" He laughed, planting a big kiss on Arthur, who seemed to be even more embarrassed, if possible, as he pulled away.

"Sh-shut up, you bloody frog!"

Arthur whipped around, glaring menacingly at Anya now. The Russian blonde had a sweet, innocent smile on her face, and was sitting at the cracked windowsill. She pushed her hair behind her ears, chuckling softly at the unraveling mischief around her. Anya returned the glare with a smirk, simply shrugging and kicking her feet back and forth.

"You could've easily avoided this had you just let me have my fun with Alfred, here~!"

"Like hell I was going to sit by and let him fraternize with a whore such as yourself!"

"What? Too afraid he's straight for me rather than gay for you~?"

_"WHAT?"_

Alfred chimed in with Arthur's shock, heat rising in his face. What was that supposed to mean? What exactly was she trying to say? Arthur was in love with him or some form of it? They were close and all, but… not _that_ close. Not to Alfred, anyhow. That would be _way_ too awkward! He snuck a glance at his fellow officer, who looked like he was going to beat either prostitute senseless. The irate, thick-browed man pulled his handcuffs out, glowering at the Russian girl, who looked bored.

"That's an absolutely _preposterous_ notion, you dirty little whore! Now put your hands behind your back; you're under arrest!"

Anya blinked, rolling her eyes and letting the man cuff her without a fight. She winced as he tightened the cuffs significantly, leaving no room for her to pick them. They were uncomfortable as hell, rubbing against her wrists as Arthur pushed her towards the door.

"Now hang on a minute, bro!" Alfred piped up, blocking the doorway. "Why am I not being arrested with her? And after finding out you're a _regular_, you should be arrested too—!"

"You're really going to believe a prostitute over your own work associate? Just how far gone are you, Alfred?"

"But—"

"It's simple; you keep quiet, I keep quiet. No one has to know about _any_ of this."

"…"

The room was completely silent after that, the two policemen just glaring at each other, the tension between the four human beings insatiably high. Francis had begun tidying up Anya's room per her request, sighing. Whatever was going on between those three was quite climactic by this point, and he clearly hadn't helped things. Anya leaned against the doorjamb, blowing some hair out of her face, expression unreadable.

"So, Alfred, what are you going to do?"

Arthur's tone was impatient, and Anya hissed in slight pain as his grip tightened on her arm. Alfred glanced between the two of them, gulping nervously. His head hurt; he just wanted out of there. Slowly and a bit reluctantly, he stepped aside, making way for them to leave. Anya's eyes widened a bit in shock, and Arthur's glare softened.

"Good choice."

The blonde woman yelped as Arthur pulled her along, out the door. She threw a glare Alfred's way, mumbling something to him. Al's expression suddenly became tinged with confusion, and he felt sick inside, his stomach now in knots. He sat down on the bed he'd spent the night in the night before, rubbing his temples and sighing heavily. He sat there a while, everyone soon gone from the room. He could hear the traffic outside as Anya's words rang in his head.

_You cop-out._


End file.
